Chapter 5
Unwelcome
Cervantes - 881 (Sixteen years ago)
Matthias pulled his cloak tighter against the rain, the fabric heavy and soaked through, clinging to him like a second skin. He clutched the small, bundled baby against his chest, her tiny form a weight he had no idea how to bear.
The child didn’t cry. She was too quiet, as if she knew, even at that young age, that her presence in this world was unwelcome. He hadn’t asked for this. He hadn’t wanted this. She was a burden, an anchor he couldn’t afford to carry, not with the world falling apart around him.
The rain came down in heavy sheets, drenching the cracked earth and filling the air with the scent of copper and iron. It was the kind of rain that came once in a long while, the kind that should have been a blessing in a world so parched, but tonight, it felt like a curse.
The downpour only added to the sense of unease that hung over the land like a shroud. The Archons were gone, defeated in a war no one truly understood, and the Verdant had abandoned them to their fate, leaving behind only broken promises and purple cracks in the sky that seemed to widen with each passing day. People whispered that the world was dying, that the very ground beneath their feet was unravelling, and every time those purple fissures stretched across the heavens, the fear grew deeper.
Matthias moved through the muddy streets, his boots sinking into the sludge as he approached Red Market. He’d never been to Cervantes before but he couldn’t think of where else to go. It wasn’t the trade he cared about. It was Lani. She was here, somewhere in this labyrinth of stalls and makeshift homes, and she would know what to do. She was good with this kind of thing. She’s a mother. She’ll know what to do.
He’d not seen Lani in months but he knew that she’d moved to Cervantes like so many others when the Verdant finally hit Lindrao. Most undercity folk were quick to get out. His thoughts drifted to Kyra, unbidden, sharp as a blade. He clenched his jaw, forcing the image of her out of his mind. Now’s the time to think about that. It was already all too much.
The world was ending. And he had a… complication in his arms to think about.
He had to focus.
Matthias stepped through the massive archway of the Red Market, and it hit him all at once—the chaotic hum of voices, the smell of sizzling food, the clatter of metal, the hiss of steam. Even at night, the place was alive, buzzing with the constant ebb and flow of scavengers, traders, and those looking for something—anything—to get by.
The night sky, barely visible through the crisscrossing girders and crumbling remains of the warehouse roof, leaked streams of rain down onto the bustling stalls below. Puddles formed in the uneven, cracked concrete, and people moved around them without a second thought. They were used to the discomfort, the rain mixing with the grime and rust that seemed to coat everything.
Algae-neon signs flickered in vibrant shades of green, blue, magenta, and golden yellow, casting an eerie glow over the market. They advertised everything from spare parts to fresh food, though Matthias doubted how fresh anything could be here. The signs buzzed, some sputtering as the rainwater hit exposed wires, but they held on, lighting the chaos.
Stalls crammed against one another, the goods on display protected by haphazardly patched tarps that barely kept out the rain. The warehouse itself was an enormous, decaying relic, with jagged beams and half-collapsed walls, barely holding together. It was all part of some factory long before the war, fallen to ruin and now with a new purpose.
Matthias navigated the narrow alleys between the stalls, his boots splashing through the murky water. The baby in his arms stirred, her tiny hand clutching at his shirt. He pulled his jacket tighter around her, shielding her from the worst of the downpour. Traders eyed him as he passed, some with curiosity, others with suspicion, but none of them said a word. Here, everyone had their secrets.
It took him a while to find Lani’s stall, nestled in a corner. It was cobbled together from scrap metal and weathered wood, with a large, makeshift canopy overhead to shield her pots and pans from the relentless rain. A flickering algae-neon sign, glowing in vibrant green, hung crookedly above, reading "Lani's Roots."
Still the same terrible name, Matthias thought, shaking his head. It didn’t exactly inspire confidence in her cooking, but anyone who knew Lani understood that her food was the real deal. She had a way of turning the most unappetizing plants into something you couldn’t stop eating. Deep-fried, crispy, spiced with herbs scavenged from archons-knew-where.
Stolen story; please report.
Back in Lindrao’s undercity, her fried plant roots had been a hit. They were filling and cheap, and in a place like this, that counted for a lot. Red Market wasn’t any different. The same people, the same struggle.
The stall was empty of customers for now, which was unsurprising as the rain was coming down hard, and Lani’s tarp only covered her kitchen, leaving the beer barrels she used as tables out in the open, drenched and uninviting. Lani herself was standing over a sizzling pan.
She looked up at him as soon as he stepped under the shelter of her stall. Her dark hair, streaked with grey, was tied back in a loose bun, though strands always escaped to frame her sun-weathered face. Her skin, a deep bronze from years spent working under harsh skies. She was barely a decade older than Matthias, but she’d always looked out for him back in the undercity. She had always been the one people turned to when they had problems. She was the glue that held people together. It wasn’t out of obligation or pity, but because it was simply in her nature. Helping others, fixing their problems—it was as much a part of her as breathing.
“Matthias,” she said, her voice low and rough from years of surviving in a world that offered no kindness. “Archons! It is you.” She wiped her hands on her apron and turned to face him fully. Her eyes flicked to the baby in his arms, and something passed over her face—surprise, maybe, or understanding. “What in the world…?”
“I need your help,” Matthias said, his voice gruff, more a demand than a request.
Lani frowned, stepping closer. “That’s a baby,” she said, as if he didn’t already know.
“Yeah,” Matthias muttered, shifting uncomfortably.
Lani’s gaze flicked down to the baby, then back up to Matthias. She didn’t say anything right away, but her eyes said enough. There was no judgment, no anger, just a kind of weary understanding that Matthias found unsettling. Like she already knew what was going on, like she’d seen it all before.
“Archons, boy, where’s the mother?” she hissed.
“Gone,” Matthias muttered, the single word sticking in his throat like gravel. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. The truth was far more complicated than he had the energy to explain. And it doesn’t matter anyway, does it? The mother wasn’t here. That was the point.
Lani softened then, her features shifting in that way she did when she was about to coddle someone. It was what she was known for—this rough exterior that gave way to something almost motherly. Matthias hated it, hated how it made him feel seen, exposed. He wasn’t some kid who needed looking after, wasn’t some lost cause for her to fix. But then again, isn’t that exactly why he was here, for her to help him.
“You don’t know what you’re doing, do you?” Lani said quietly, more of a statement than a question.
Matthias swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. He didn’t want her pity. He didn’t want anyone’s pity. “I didn’t ask for this,” he muttered, the frustration bubbling up, barely restrained. “But she’s here now. And I need your help.”
“You think just bringing her here, to the Red Market of all places, is going to solve things?”
Matthias didn’t answer. He didn’t have an answer. All he knew was that he’d been walking in the rain, aimless, directionless, with the baby in his arms and no idea what the hell he was doing. He’d come to Lani because, deep down, he knew she’d help. Even if she’d give him hell for it first.
“I’ll pay,” he said, his voice rough.
Lani’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “It’s not about payment, Matthias. It’s about what’s right for her.” She nodded towards the baby. “You’ve got to think about that now.”
What’s right for her? He wasn’t even sure what was right for himself anymore, let alone for this small, fragile life now tied to his.
"Can I..." Matthias started awkwardly, his voice trailing off as he shifted the weight of the baby in his arms. He was terrible at this, worse than terrible.
"What?" Lani’s voice was sharp, already knowing what he was about to say.
"Can I leave her... with you?" The question came out fast, and the moment he said it, he regretted it.
Lani’s expression shifted instantly, her face hardening in a way that made Matthias want to take a step back. This was the Lani he knew—the one who didn’t take shit from anyone, least of all him.
"So that’s what you want, is it? To abandon her?" Her voice was cold, biting, like the wind that howled through the broken windows of the warehouse.
"Not forever, just until I figure some things out," he muttered, feeling more and more like a child being scolded. He hated this. Hated the way he felt, hated the way Lani looked at him, hated the baby in his arms that made everything so damn messy.
"No. Absolutely not," Lani snapped, her eyes narrowing. "I'll give you a place to stay, both of you. But this child is your responsibility, Matthias. Not mine."
"I need to find work," he said, his voice small and defeated. It was a poor excuse, but it was the only reason he had. And it wasn’t good enough.
"Most people do these days, parents included." Lani’s voice softened just a fraction, but her gaze remained firm. "Me and Tan can help you until you're on your feet, lad. But look at me." She took a step closer, her presence filling the space between them like a looming storm. "If you even suggest leaving this baby behind, there's nowhere on this living hell of a world the Archons can hide you from me. You understand?"
Matthias swallowed hard, nodding because he knew better than to argue. She wasn’t bluffing. Lani never bluffed.